


Pancakes and Mental Trauma

by icabyppup



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Good Friend, Caring Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders is a Good Friend, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Hurt Morality | Patton Sanders, Hurt/Comfort, I Can't Write A Fic Without Something Happening At 3am, Logic | Logan Sanders Is A Good Friend, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Misunderstandings, Morality | Patton Sanders Needs a Hug, Morality | Patton Sanders-centric, Multi, Nightmares, Pancakes, Platonic Bed Sharing, Platonic Cuddling, Sharing a Bed, Truth Serum, and some, because I'm cautious, emotional distress, in seperate chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:42:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22998646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icabyppup/pseuds/icabyppup
Summary: Patton has nightmares, so does Virgil. It makes sense for them to team up against them sometimes!If only Patton had been more open, maybe Roman would've believed that...
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton & Thomas Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 20
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cactus_Is_Trash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cactus_Is_Trash/gifts).



> For my dearest CaraIsTrash, consider this one last surprise! (And the part of my gift where I actually put thought into it.) I hope you've had a wonderful day! I love you so much 💖💖💖💖💖💖
> 
> (Massive thanks to RookieReporterZ and IGuessNot for putting up with my endless questions, headcannons and reading and re-reading the same paragraph over and over again. I couldn't have done it without you guys)

_Patton walked down the empty hall, trailing his fingertips along the flaking white paint. In the distance, he could see perfectly straight corridors splitting off at 90º angles to the wall. As he drew closer he could hear voices wailing._

_He approached the first corridor, watching with calm detachment as a navy blue light pulsed and flickered in time with what he now recognised as Logan’s screams. As his fingers jumped the gap, he caught sight of writhing, dismembered flesh._

_Patton filled with horror, but his body kept numbly walking, face set into a mask of apathy._

_The next corridor came and went as the air filled with a pale violet light and Virgil’s whimpers. His stomach churned as he stepped over what appeared to be fragments of bone, but the apathy kept his terror supressed._

_Roman’s corridor was bathed in red. At first Patton though it was just the light, but then he was trailing bloody footprints behind him, ready to join Roman’s sobbing even as his lips – against his will – twisted into a smile._

_He continued walking at a leisurely pace, body on autopilot as he reached the end of the hall and came face to face with a white door._

_Consumed with dread, he opened it and he was back at the start of the hall… but the walls were gone._

_Now he could see everything._

_Patton could see himself, silently howling in rage as he tore pieces of flesh from Logan’s body. His friend was screaming, immobilised in pain as he used his bare hands to rip through the logical side’s skin; separating muscle from bone in messy chunks._

_His feet started to move against his will._

_Patton passed himself, shaking in fear as he clung to Virgil. The anxious side’s arms were a mess of blood, and as he watched he could see his fingers grow into claws; spiralling into his friend’s arms like drills and sending chips of bone flying. Virgil just sat there and let it happen, whimpering as he tried to soothe Patton, despite the agony he was in._

_His features were still twisted into a smile._

_Further down, Patton could see himself bent over a prone Roman, lying on the ground sobbing. As he approached, he realised with a twist of revulsion that he was crying bloody tears. They dripped onto Roman’s face, running into his mouth as the creative side slowly drowned._

_Patton had reached the end again, and his body turned back. He took in the carnage, wanting with every fibre of his being to scream._

_The Pattons paused in their tasks, and slowly twisted their faces to him._

_They smiled, and all of a sudden he was screaming…_

_…_

Patton woke up screaming, for the third time that week.

He quickly cut off his cry, hoping he hadn’t already woken the others. Shoving his glasses onto his nose, he stumbled out of bed and towards the door, steadying himself on the doorframe when his head began to spin.

He knew from experience that the only way he could fall asleep again after that particular nightmare was to check on the other sides.

He paused at Virgil’s door. It was a toss up whether Virgil was actually sleeping, and he didn’t want to have to answer the anxious side’s questions as to why he was awake and checking on him in the middle of the night. Patton pressed his ear to the smooth wood, listening carefully for any rustling blankets or creaking floorboards. Instead, he could hear his friend’s whimpers – so similar to those in his dream that he couldn’t help but open the door and rush to Virgil’s bedside.

He was obviously having a nightmare, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and twitching where he lay. Patton hesitantly reached out and brushed his fingers through Virgil’s hair. When he didn’t seem to get any worse, Patton began to gently run his hand through his friend’s hair. Virgil’s whimpering lessened as he stirred, and Patton continued to ruffle his hair until the anxious side’s eyes blinked open, bleary with sleep.

“Pat?” Virgil mumbled, “what’re you doing here?”

Patton momentarily panicked, but then went with the obvious answer – the one that was only _technically_ a lie.

“I heard you having a nightmare Virge. You okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

The anxious side attempted to sit, but eventually flopped back onto his side. “No thanks. Thanks for waking me up.”

Patton assessed his friend. Virgil looked half-asleep but still jumpy, hunched over like he expected something to run at him from the shadows.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get to sleep again?”

The anxious side grimaced, “Probably not.”

“Would it help if I stayed?” The moral side asked gently.

Virgil considered the offer. Patton would later realise that Virgil would never have accepted if he was even marginally more awake.

“Sure,” the anxious side clumsily patted his spare pillow, “plenty of room.”

Patton carefully climbed into Virgil’s bed and settled under the heavy quilt. The sides wished each other goodnight, both barely conscious, and immediately fell asleep - soothed by the other’s heartbeat.

...

The next morning they woke with Patton’s arms around Virgil, the other’s head on his shoulder. After the ensuing panicked detangling, the two sides sat next to each other on the mattress and quietly agreed that maybe they should do this again, just to try it out properly. Just to see if it helped again.

By the time sliding into bed besides the other became habit, neither of them had mentioned the nightmares they both knew Patton had. Virgil understood that if the moral side hadn’t mentioned it yet he likely didn’t want to talk about it, so he wouldn’t push.

Patton realised that Virgil had probably noticed something, but as long as he didn’t bring it up he was content to hope that the anxious side was oblivious. The thought of adding even the smallest thing to Virgil’s already immense burden made him feel sick. He couldn’t bear to worry his family over minor inconveniences – and that’s what this was, he kept telling himself - a minor inconvenience at best.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman doesn't exactly look before he leaps...

Roman was suspicious.

That in of itself wasn’t exactly unusual, but this particular suspicion? Well, never in a million years could Roman have dreamed this one up; ergo, there must be a least _some_ truth to it.

No matter how crazy that truth seemed.

Because Patton and Virgil… Okay first of all _ew,_ they were totally apologising to Roman for all of the mental trauma that thought process had caused. Second of all, of all the sides it was _Virgil_ and _Patton?_ Roman had definitely not called that. Honestly, if he had to pick two sides to be fucking he definitely would’ve pinned it on Remus and Deceit… and that was only _partially_ because he didn’t want to imagine his friends doing _that._

Again, he was _so_ owed an apology for the mental trauma.

But seriously, this was the _third time_ that Roman had caught Virgil leaving Patton’s room in the morning – sleep rumpled and wearing his pyjamas, no less. That, he thought, couldn’t be explained away so easily.

Roman’s curiosity had to be sated. Where they just friends with benefits? Secretly in a relationship? He hoped it was the latter – he just couldn’t see soft, loving Patton going for no-strings-attached fucking. That being said, he couldn’t really see Virgil as a part of either arrangement, but if anyone could break through his stormy shell it would definitely be the moral side. Besides, who would even instigate a friends-with-benefits situation? He just couldn’t see it ever happening, however it could be possible (if not entirely plausible) that they could’ve obliviously stumbled into a romantic relationship. And if they were in a romantic relationship, why were they keeping it secret? Could they be scared of his and Logan’s reactions? He certainly couldn’t have that.

That was Roman’s reasoning for getting up at 5am and stationing himself in the corridor outside the side’s rooms, and he was sticking to it.

Sure enough, at about 7 Virgil stumbled out of Patton’s room, bleary-eyed. Roman intercepted him on his way back to his room.

“What’d you want, Princey?” he grumbled.

And okay, maybe Roman hadn’t planned this _well._

“It has come to my attention that you and our dear Morality seem to be… consorting?”

Virgil blinked, ”What.”

“Are you sleeping with Patton?”

Virgil growled, pushing past Roman and into his room.

“Fuck off, Princey.”

Okay, Roman had a right to be suspicious.

…

He decided to go for Patton next, seeing as he didn’t really gain much information from Virgil. Sure, one _could_ interpret his rude dismissal as a confirmation… but Roman was determined to be more thorough than that.

He wanted verbal verification… but he wasn’t too picky, he wouldn’t argue with one in writing.

The point still stood that he needed to approach this from a different angle. Hence, cornering Patton after breakfast.

“So, I happened to see a certain stormcloud leaving your room this morning… what was he doing in there, I wonder?”

Patton flushed ever so slightly, and looked away “Virgil finds that it helps his nightmares to have company.”

And okay, that might’ve been a believable excuse if Patton was better at lying. Unfortunately for him, the blushing and lack of eye contact were _huge_ tells – he was hiding something.

“ _Sure,_ Padre.”

Roman walked away, leaving a spluttering Patton behind him.

If he couldn’t get an admission, he would have to take matters into his own hands.

…

Roman made his way through the medieval-style village, carefully scanning the row of stalls for the place he was looking for. He hoped that the imagination could provide a more… head-on approach to his problem. Spying his destination, he wove through the passers-by to approach the stall from behind.

“Prince Roman!” the stallholder startled when he noticed the side, “what brings you to my humble shop?”

The merchant was hunched over, garbed in a dark cloak and boots. He bore the odour of one who sourced their potion ingredients personally, and Roman couldn’t help but keep his distance.

“My dear merchant, I come in seek of a brew most powerful; one that will compel the drinker to speak in verity.”

The merchant raised an eyebrow, “So a truth potion?”

Roman nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! I don’t suppose you may happen to have one in stock?”

“Sure I do” -the man stepped into the stall briefly, and emerged clutching a square, algae-coloured bottle- “this should do the trick. Just make sure that your person drinks all of it. The effects should last for 24 hours”

Roman took the bottle and handed over the payment. “Thank you kind sir! I most appreciate your services!”

The merchant nodded, and the creative side dashed off.

He had a plan to set in place.

…

The next morning, Roman made sure to be up bright and early. Well… more accurately dark and early, as Patton was often up with the sun. For Roman to beat him to the punch he’d have to be ready before the moral side set foot in the main room.

By the time Patton wandered into the kitchen, Roman was already cooking breakfast. Shocked, the moral side walked over to observe the growing stack of pancakes with mild trepidation.

“Roman? What are you doing up?”

The creative side smiled blindingly, hoping Patton wouldn’t notice the amount of concealer he had to use to cover the eye bags that came from getting up at 4am. Man, Virgil and Patton owed him _so_ many apologies for this.

“This morning I was lying in bed, and all of a sudden I was filled with the compulsion to help you all break your fast!”

“Aw, thank you Roman,” Patton smiled, “that’s very thoughtful of you! And it looks like they’ve turned out really well!”

Roman knew an opportunity when he saw one.

“Are you hungry, Padre? Why don’t you try some? I’d appreciate some feedback.” He handed the moral side a plate, which was accepted graciously. Roman smiled triumphantly, unnoticed by Patton as he dug into the meal.

“They’re very nice, Roman,” -the moral side took another bite, chewing thoughtfully- “They…”

Patton’s speech cut out. As Roman watched, green sparked from the tips of his fingers and lazily wound its way up, twining over his limbs like a snake made of glitter. In a matter of seconds Patton’s form was consumed by the sparkles, and they faded away just as fast.

“They’re a little dry.”

Patton clamped his hands over his mouth, eyes comically wide. “I didn’t mean to say that,” he mumbled through his palms.

Roman couldn’t help but pump his fist, because his plan worked! Way better than he had hoped, and that green-glitter-snake-thing was _so_ cool - major style points there.

The moral side was staring at him in a way that seemed to indicate he might be a _tad_ suspicious, but Roman wasn’t bothered in the slightest. 

“Patton! Have you been sleeping with Virgil?”

“Yes,” the moral side answered compulsively.

“Ha! I knew it! You thought-“

Patton continued “-but we aren’t engaging in sexual activity like you think. We’re just sleeping in the same space because it reduces nightmares.”

“Oh,” Roman deflated, “Really?”

“Yes,” Patton squeaked, his face matching Roman’s sash.

“Damn. I really thought I was right,” -the creative side griped, sitting down dejectedly- “I was so sure I was onto something.”

“What did you think you were onto?” Asked Logan, stepping into the kitchen. He squinted, taking in Patton’s nuclear blush, Roman’s disappointed face and the remains of the pancakes. “Considering it’s only just gone 6:30, I’d imagine something monumental.”

Virgil stepped out from behind Logan.

“It’d _better_ be monumental for you to be making this much noise at such an ungodly hour.”

Patton squeaked again, making a sound reminiscent of a trodden-on-kitten. Roman shrunk a little at Virgil’s appearance.

“Virgil! Lovely to see you up this early.”

The anxious side levelled a look at Roman. “Stop deflecting. What’s going on?”

“I’m not deflecting, you’re deflecting!”

Virgil raised an eyebrow.

Roman flushed, but stood his ground. “I am _not_ deflecting.”

“Roman, you are not only up but _making pancakes_ approximately 2.5 hours before your standard time of waking. That coupled with the noise does tend to indicate that something is amiss,” -Logan paused- “Also, the response ‘you’re deflecting’ does tend to indicate deflection.”

Yeah, Roman couldn’t really argue with that. So he ignored Virgil in favour of arguing his case to Logan.

“They were being so obvious! I mean, _come on,_ they were practically _screaming_ ‘we’re in a secret sexual and possibly romantic relationship’,” he levelled a look at Logan, “it was my _duty_ to get to the bottom of this.”

Logan frowned slightly, processing the creative side’s words.

“Allow me to clarify; you, for some inane reason, decided that Virgil and Patton were engaging in sexual contact. You then decided that you had a quote-unquote ‘duty’ to… force them to admit it?”

Roman winced, “Well it sounds bad when you put it like _that…”_

Virgil stepped out from the doorway and made his way to the table, towering over Roman.

“Yeah, no shit Princey. You just couldn’t leave it, could you?”

Roman hung his head, “I’m sorry Virgil, I should’ve left you alone.”

Virgil’s glare lost some of its heat. “I probably didn’t help by telling you to fuck off either. That just made you more curious, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, it kind of did.”

“I’m glad you two have come to an agreement without coming to blows, but we may be overlooking something here,” Logan moved into the kitchen and shot a meaningful glance at Patton, still flushed cherry-red and covering his mouth.

Roman looked more than a little sheepish. “Yeah, so about that… I kind of gave Patton a truth serum so he would admit you were fucking?”

Logan raised his eyebrows, and Virgil growled a little.

“You did _what?_ Princey, that is _very wrong_ on _a lot_ of levels!”

“I _know,_ and I’m sorry! I really messed up, okay?”

“Well, it’s not _me_ that you need to apologize to _, is it?_ ”

“No, you’re right Virgil.” Roman turned shamefacedly to Patton, and scooted his chair over to face him.

“My dearest Morality, I pledge to you my apologies for the hurt I have caused you. My actions were unjust and immoral, fueled by personal curiosity and ignorant of your feelings.”

Patton took in the creative side’s words. “Thanks for the apology, kiddo. You didn’t make the _greatest_ decision, and your lack of consideration of my feelings does sting a bit, but I’m glad you learned from your mistakes!”

The sides all winced.

“Yikes.”

“Yeah, it sounds bad when you put it like that.”

“That’s because it _is_ bad, Roman,” Virgil said pointedly.

Roman nodded. “I grant you all permission to exact whatever punishment you deem fit if I ever intrude on any of your privacy again.”

Virgil smirked, “Noted. Now, are all of these pancakes spiked? If I’m up this early I need food to make it worthwhile.”

“Go ahead,” Roman said, “they’re fine.”

“Patton,” -Logan walked over to scrutinize the moral side- “Do you prefer dogs or cats?”

“Cats,” Patton replied with a horrified look on his face. “I’m sorry! Dogs are wonderful too and it’s so hard to choose but kittens! Their little paws and the toe beans and their tiny little teeth and how their whole face scrunches up when they yawn! It’s so precious!”

Virgil snorted, helping himself to the pancakes, “Patton, you’re allergic to cats. And does choosing between two animals really bother you that much?”

Patton looked devastated. “Yes! Stop reminding me that I’m allergic!”

“Fascinating,” Logan muttered, “It really worked.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the hurt/comfort!

Patton woke up panting. Flashes of screams and coloured light played over the backs of his eyes as he tried not to cry. No matter how many times he had the nightmare, it was heartbreaking to see his family like that - and horrific to see himself…

He shuddered, pulling himself out of bed and shoving his glasses onto his face. He  _ had  _ to see at least one of them, make sure they were okay. It wasn’t logical, but the moral side knew that wasn’t one of his strong suits. He’d just have to be extra careful not to wake anyone, considering he was still under the effects of the truth serum. It was this exact reason he’d refused Virgil’s offer to cuddle tonight, knowing that if the circumstances conspired against him he’d have no choice but to spill everything.

Patton listened carefully at Virgil’s door, but the creaking floorboards told away him that the anxious side was still awake. The moral side felt a stab of guilt – he’d turned down Virgil’s offer because he had selfishly assumed that the other side had asked to help him. He hadn’t considered that Virgil might’ve been worried about his own nightmares tonight. Patton made a mental note to bake him some cookies tomorrow as an apology.

The moral side made his way down the hall, steps carefully light. He couldn’t see any light from under Logan’s door, nor could he hear any movement. Heart racing, he painstakingly turned the knob and inch by inch opened the Logical side’s door. Peeking through the crack, his vision was filled with pitch black. Half expecting a navy glow to appear, Patton stepped into the pool of light from the hall, his shadow long and so very small in the doorway. Deliberately stepping over the joins in the floorboards, he made his way into the dark room. Reaching a hand out to correct his balance, Patton jumped in fright when his fingertips made contact with something; that something happened to be a stack of books, which crashed to the floor.

The moral side flinched at the sudden noise, frozen in the sliver of light from the doorway. He prayed that Logan would stay sleeping, that Logan  _ was  _ sleeping, oh god, what if he wasn’t? Was he okay? What if he’d come to check on his friend, only to find his nightmare had somehow transcended dream? Patton knew that he was spiraling, that his thoughts didn’t make sense, but for the life of him he  _ couldn’t  _ stop it…

“Patton?” Logan’s voice was scratchy with sleep, but so undeniably  _ his  _ that the moral side almost sobbed with relief then and there.

“What’s going on?”

The words came unbidden, Patton was powerless to stop them. Still under the effects of the truth potion, he had the sudden, sickening realisation that everything was about to come undone. “I knocked something over, I think.”

Logan was sitting up now, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and fixing his glasses. “And why exactly are you in my room to knock something over at,” -Logan reached for the clock on his bedside table- “3 o’clock in the morning?”

“I had to check on you,” the moral side mumbled, close to tears.

Logan climbed out of bed and made his way over to Patton. Putting his hands on the other’s shoulders, he examined his friend - taking in his white face, sleep-rumpled hair and the tears welling in his eyes that Patton just couldn’t seem to hold back.

Logan pulled him into a tight hug, guiding the moral side’s head to rest atop his shoulder and gently cupping the back of his neck. Patton clung onto Logan’s shirt and hiccupped, unable to prevent his tears from spilling over. Logan rubbed gentle circles onto Patton’s shoulder, and murmured gently, “Do you have a significant objection to me getting the others? Emotional comfort is rather out of my area of expertise, although I will try if that is what you require of me.”

And in that moment of weakness, there was nothing that Patton wanted more than to see the rest of his family, safe. To hug them, for them to hold him.

“Yes.”

Logan shifted his hold on Patton, tucking him into his side. They made their way to Virgil’s door first, and the anxious side had it opened before they could even knock.

“Oh, Pat,” -his face melted into gentle concern, and he used his thumb to wipe the tears from the moral side’s cheeks- “It’s okay.” He then turned to Logan.

“Roman?”

The logical side nodded, and Virgil made his way to the creative side’s room. He didn’t bother to knock, barging right through the door. From outside, Logan and Patton could hear a series of unidentifiable sounds, and then Roman’s indignant squawks from being woken. They quickly cut off, and he emerged from his room with Virgil in tow. His face crumpled as he took in Patton’s hunched form, and he quickly raced over and scooped up the other side in a hug.

“Shall we head to the couch?”

…

“So,” Logan began once all of the sides were settled on the couch, comfortably ensconced in blankets, “Patton. Would you care to explain the cause of your distress?”

The moral side gulped from his place amongst the blankets, but couldn’t help the words that tumbled from his lips. “I don’t want to tell you.”

“And why might that be?” Roman asked gently.

“Because I don’t want to burden you all! You guys already have so much to worry about without me adding my little inconveniences to the pile.”

Virgil’s expression softened with understanding, “Patton, first of all anything that’s bothering you isn’t a ‘little inconvenience’. You’re  _ allowed _ to have problems, and you don’t have to be happy all the time. Do you understand that?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, “I do, but-“

“No buts. You’re  _ not _ a burden. We’re here for you no matter what.”

“Do you understand that?” Logan asked gently.

“I understand it, I’m just not sure if I quite believe it.”

The words slipped free unbidden, but Patton didn’t mind quite as much as he thought he would. There was something immensely cathartic about being this open.

“That’s okay,” Virgil reassured him, “It’ll take some time. But do you promise to come to us when you’re struggling to remember? It’s scary at first, but the more you do it the more it’ll stick.”

“Okay,” he breathed, “I’ll try my best.”

Virgil smiled, “That’s all we ask.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, before Roman remembered the original purpose of their impromptu midnight meeting.

“Patton? Why were you so upset before?”

“Oh,” the moral side looked away, “I had a nightmare.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Virgil asked, “Remember, it’s not a problem. You’re allowed to talk to us.”

Roman lit up suddenly, “Tell us all about it, and then we can make some more, un-spiked pancakes.”

Patton giggled, “Okay.”

He snuggled into Logan’s side, who began to play with his hair, gently encouraging him to speak. Virgil slung an arm over his shoulders as he recounted his nightmares, tucking him further into the blankets as he spoke about the endless cycle of exhaustion. And when, voice quietly shaking, he described the terror he felt seeing them hurt - seeing  _ himself hurt them _ – Roman gently wiped away his tears.

And when the golden morning light filtered in through under the blinds, and the effects of the truth potion were long gone, Patton kept talking. His family was there listening, waiting to offer words of comfort, tactile affection, and pancakes.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! If you do, I'd really adore a comment :)


End file.
